Gaius Baltar Has His Day in Court
by Nevermore
Summary: Gaius Baltar does his best to weasel his way out of his trial for High Treason and other assorted capital offenses.


Battlestar Galactica 2003 is a copyright of the Sci Fi Channel. Battlestar Galactica is a trademark and copyright of Universal Studios. Ron Moore re-imagined Glen A. Larson's original idea; but then again, most people who would be reading this already know that. My use is in no way intended to challenge or infringe upon any established copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned or any other copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is unintended.

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**Author's Notes:** The inspiration for this one resulted from me thinking too much again. And I know that my inclusion of a Latin phrase is inappropriate for a society based loosely on ancient Greece, but I implore you to overlook my stylistic choice.

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**Gaius Baltar Has His Day in Court**  
by  
**Nevermore**

"How does the defendant plead to the charges against him?" the judge asked. The old man glared down from the bench, his eyes narrowed menacingly. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the judge had lost countless friends and family to the cylons, and he was as willing as anyone else to make Gaius Baltar answer for his pain.

Baltar blinked, surprised that the court had finished reading the long list of charges; he'd kind of let his mind wander after the first five minutes. Standing to his left was his defense attorney, a motivated man whom, Baltar had learned, once specialized in tax law. His one and only experience with the criminal justice system was defending an uncle's DUI. On his right, Six lounged comfortably in the third defendant's chair, her feet on the table. She seemed completely uninterested in the proceedings. _But of course she is,_ Baltar reminded himself. _She knows that this isn't going to play out the way Roslin and Adama expect it will._

"Doctor Baltar?" the judge prompted after a few moments, his tone belying his irritation.

"Yes, right…" he replied. "I mean, yes, Your Honor." Baltar turned to look behind him, taking in the scene with amusement. Roslin sat in the front row on the other side of the room, directly behind the prosecutor, a young woman who, as luck would have it, had apparently been on the fast track to promotion in the Delphi City prosecutor's office; Adama was nowhere to be seen. Other that the President, however, the gallery was packed with press, all of them waiting in rapt fascination, holding tape recorders and microphones up in the air in front of them, preparing to preserve his next words for all time. Baltar smiled thinly, confident he wasn't going to disappoint.

"Doctor Baltar," the judge prompted again, now outright hostile.

"Yes, Your Honor," Baltar said smoothly. He took a deep breath and quickly ran through his speech one more time in his head, then began. "I, Gaius Baltar, in the spirit of healing, unity, and clemency President Roslin has already displayed to so many of our people, do hereby state, as the duly elected President of the Twelve Colonies, that I am granting myself a full executive pardon, as is my right as President under the Articles of Colonization." It was suddenly pandemonium behind him, but Baltar continued, leaning forward, speaking into the microphone so that the court recording system would get a complete record of his words. "This pardon covers any and all crimes I have ever committed, either intentionally or unintentionally, knowingly or unknowingly," Baltar added, "all actions and omissions of action, any actions that could be considered collusion or conspiracy for future actions."

He stole a peek at Six, who was grinning from ear to ear, and he was about to say more when two of the court security detail grabbed him and led him forcefully from the courtroom.

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Several hours passed before he received his first visitors. Baltar had expected his attorney's arrival – though he'd rather thought it would have happened sooner – but he was surprised to see Roslin, Adama, the judge, and the prosecutor following on his attorney's heels. "What the hell was that?" Roslin growled as soon as she caught Baltar's eye. "What game are you playing at, Doctor? You are _not_ the President."

"I was elected President," Baltar replied calmly. "Given the recent lack of entertaining diversions, I've spent a good deal of time reviewing the Articles of Colonization, and I can't for the life of me figure out how I'm not the President anymore."

"Do you need us to spell it out for you?" Roslin asked sarcastically.

"Perhaps it's me who should spell it out for you," Baltar countered. He clasped his hands in front of him, staring magnanimously at the President and her entourage. For their part, Roslin, Adama, the judge, and the prosecutor looked nothing less than irate.

"Go ahead, Gaius," Six purred gleefully as she grasped Baltar from behind, holding him close, her warmth seeping through his borrowed suit. "But make sure you use small words. Because she has to be a little slow not to have seen this coming."

"When I failed to rejoin the fleet after your flight from New Caprica, my Vice-President, Tom Zarek, assumed control," Baltar said, starting slowly, his tone clipped and precise.

"Of course," Roslin nodded.

"But on what authority?" Baltar asked rhetorically. "I had my attorney check the records, and no death certificate was ever issued for me. I had him check the public records of Quorum proceedings and never found any record indicating that Zarek was elevated to the office of President after the Quorum declared me officially incapacitated by virtue of my captivity."

"Captivity?" Adama growled sarcastically. "Is that what you call it? We happen to know that you were colluding with the cylons even after New Caprica, helping them find Earth."

"Any help I may or may not have given literally would have been provided at gunpoint," Baltar responded glibly. "How could you ever say I did anything voluntarily?"

"I don't see that we have to," Roslin muttered.

"On the contrary, intent is a rather crucial element of every one of the charges against me," Baltar countered. "You yourself granted clemency to everyone for everything that happened on New Caprica, President Roslin. So even if I'm not the rightful President – which I maintain I am – your own declaration of clemency absolves me of any criminal liability for any crimes I allegedly committed during the occupation. And you have no firsthand evidence that I ever colluded with the cylons after I was captured."

"We have testimony of a prisoner," Adama reminded him.

"A _cylon_ prisoner," Baltar pointed out. "Yes, the testimony of a machine…" Baltar's voice trailed off as he stood smiling, looking from one to another of his visitors, trying to decide whether he was more amused or troubled by the fact that his own defense attorney seemed more bewildered than anyone else in front of him. "Cylons were created by humans, Admiral. I had to go back decades – to the time of the First Cylon War – to find statutes relating to the cylons, but they clearly had no legal standing under Colonial law, and I'm aware of no change to that lack of legal status. You may just as well _literally_ bring a toaster into the courtroom to testify against me, for all the legal good it would do you. Under Colonial law, cylons are non-sentient machines with absolutely no rights whatsoever. They can't sue or be sued, and they cannot stand as witnesses to any case or controversy arising under the Articles or laws of the Twelve Colonies."

"Just legal word games," Adama said angrily. "Those laws have nothing to do with the cylons we're facing now."

"Perhaps," Baltar allowed, "but no one thought to go back and change the laws before taking testimony from a cylon prisoner, and the Articles clearly forbid you from changing the laws now and applying them against me _ex post facto_. I remind you that you and Ms. Roslin are the ones who chose to hold a trial. Trials involve laws – _all_ of the laws – and you can't turn back now just because I've found a way to use the law against you." Baltar took a deep breath, savoring the moment, forever etching in his memory the expressions on the faces in front of him. "And furthermore," he continued, "even if you argue that this cylon witness had some sort of legal status when it gave you this information, the fact remains that it was never placed under oath or subjected to cross-examination, so any so-called 'testimony' it provided is inadmissible in a court of law."

The prosecutor started to shift her feet nervously, expecting the questioning glance that the President directed in her direction. She nodded almost imperceptibly, signaling that thus far, Baltar was on defensible – if not firm – legal footing.

"So now let's return to the subject of my presidency," Baltar said with a dramatic clap of his hands. "I wasn't declared dead, and I wasn't deemed incapacitated. No… you all just decided to pretend I never existed. Of course, that made it easier for you to sleep at night, but it also meant that your assumption of the presidency, Ms. Roslin, as well as all of your actions while in office, were wholly unconstitutional. At best – and I would be willing to publicly support such a claim on your part – you were the Acting President until I safely returned to the fleet, unencumbered by the cylons' ever-present threat of violence against my person. Although as an aside, I think it merits noting that the Articles of Colonization make no mention of the office of 'Acting President,' so some might still insist that you're violating the law by acting as the government's chief executive."

"You can't be serious," Roslin said, shaking her head.

"Oh, I'm very serious," Balter replied. "Under the law, I have several arguments that free me from prosecution and criminal liability. So the choice is now yours. You can either continue to ignore the laws that give you authority over this fleet, effectively tearing up the Articles of Colonization and dissolving the Colonial government, or you and I can sit down and amicably work out a deal that's to our mutual interest. So… what'll it be?"

_Fin_


End file.
